30. NINEAH
NINEAH
“GENTLE,” he repeated.
I smiled. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
Catching me off guard, Abraham reached behind me and wrapped a hand around my hair. He pulled until I was looking up into his soul-dark stare and I smiled. “Yeah, so as wet as I get for these romantic displays of aggression, I’m not going to change my mind.”
He blew out a puff of air from his nostrils and that only made him funnier.
My insides giddy from the lethal combination of alcohol and my hormones, I decided to give him a secret of my own.
“You’re bigger than him, the substitute teacher,” I whispered.
“In class, I’d draw pictures of him because he reminded me of these giants I used to read about in fantasy novels, but you?
I wouldn’t have been able to conjure you if I did a tab of acid first. When your office furniture came in, I couldn’t stop blushing, afraid that just looking at it, I wouldn’t be able to keep down my intrusive thoughts. ”
“You really are a freak,” he murmured.
I laughed. “Yeah. I used to be so ashamed of it, too.”
Giving my hair a tug before releasing it, he did the last thing I expected and kissed my cheek, my jaw, then my throat. His teeth grazed me hard as he sucked and the action might as well have been performed on my clit because I gasped.
“I can’t comprehend a man who could look at you and deny you anything, let alone shame you for it,” he said against my skin.
“Then again, maybe that’s why my problems are a continuous cycle.
I never tell you no, am surprised when you start to behave like a spoiled little bitch, then have to correct that shit. Rinse. Repeat.”
“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” I moaned.
He made a sound in his throat I’d have smiled at if he hadn’t wrapped a hand around mine and pulled my mouth to his.
It was almost depressing how good his kisses were.
Like he was both swallowing me whole and savoring the taste.
He held me like I was going to change my mind and try to escape, and the trapped sensation was an illegal substance dumping into my bloodstream.
After only seconds, I was rubbing my breasts on him and for the first time, I understood the motivations of those feral barflies that hung around the dive bars near FX headquarters like wolves around a meat factory.
I was too queer and far too neurodiverse to find the allure in sweaty, overstimulating hotspots crawling with veterans who mostly articulated in swears and drank like fish, but heat, I understood.
Want, I understood. And if those women felt a fraction of what I did, just kissing, I owed them my deepest apologies for being such a judgmental bitch.
My hands grabbing all over him, his biceps, his chest, his back, I groped him like I was sixteen again but instead of the clumsy, awkward girl who’d kissed Alyssa Altman on the steps of Baltimore grammar, I slid my tongue along Abraham’s and drew it into my mouth.
Pressing down gently with my teeth, I swallowed his aggressive, ragged growl but it wasn’t enough.
I didn’t want to be compared to some other version of me I couldn’t compete with. Someone who’d made him fall in love and had secured his ring. I wanted to be a memory of my own.
Pulling back, my skirt bunched on top of my hips, my panties soaking against his pants, I didn’t care that I looked like a wild, unpracticed mess as I ran my tongue along his mottled skin under his ear. “I want to make a wager.”
Abraham stiffened. For a second, I feared I’d said something wrong, but his hand found my breast and squeezed. “I don’t make wagers anymore. Especially not with horny little bitches.”
Meeting his gaze, I moaned so brokenly I didn’t even have to sell it. “But… my throat hurts how my pussy hurts and I can’t kiss you without thinking about how good it’d feel to swallow around something.”
Abraham glared at me like I’d sworn threats to his mother’s life and I clocked intent before he moved.
Pushing off of him, I leapt to my feet, but in a maneuver that happened faster than my reaction time could process, he swept my legs, knocking me onto my butt, and a huge hand latched around my ankle.
Dragging me across the sofa on my back, my gentle giant turned on me before my eyes.
Hovering my body, his chain glancing my nipples, he latched onto the bottom of my throat like a vampire and sucked. “You think you’re cute.”
I nearly squirted right then.
“I think you’re hard enough to cut a crack rock,” I rasped. “But I know you want my mouth. All you do is stare at it.”
He sucked me again, this time on the fleshy part of my breast under the nipple. “If I slid in right now, you’d come like it hurt.”
At this rate, I’d come if he breathed on me. What was his point?
Raising up a little, I stuck my tongue out and pulled his chain into my mouth.
The metal and warmth of his skin against my tongue, I sucked, not taking my eyes off of him.
Abraham’s normally well-controlled attention dropping out of his grasp and into mine, he stared at my mouth like he had a personal vendetta to square with it. My pussy spasmed at the rare moment.
I released the chain. “Just two minutes,” I proposed. “If I’m not better than everyone who’s ever sucked you off, I’ll do it twice a day for a year until I am.”
His expression remained steady, but that was just training. His dark eyes crumbling in a lustful panic, he swallowed. “What do you want?”
I blinked like a brain-dead bimbo because I was one.
“For the wager,” he clarified, his voice hoarse.
A little voice at the back of mind nearly answered for me, but I had to admit that wanting to be his favorite at something was too desperate to say out loud, even for me.
I folded my arms in, pushing my breasts together and smiled.
“Your chain. Every time I wear it, it’ll remind me of my first win. ”
Abraham cleared his throat like air was hard to breathe. “Not your first.”
“Oh, well you can tell me about the others while I work, then.” Stretching my arms above my head, arching my back as deep as I could manage, I grabbed the black tie from my wrist and slowly put up my hair.
Abraham’s heavy length that was throbbing between my legs now, jumped a little.
Bracing a hand on my belly, sliding it between my breasts and down my sternum, he pretended to consider, but his touch was too distracted, his breathing too fast. Eventually, he got off of me and yanked me onto my knees.
“Two minutes,” he warned.
“Set a timer.”
He shot me a look that said he’d still tear my ass up and I swallowed a bourbon-drunk giggle. Tapping his watch twice, he moved his thighs a couple more inches apart to give me room, and I crawled between them and waited.
“Two minutes,” he repeated.
Sliding my right hand between my legs until I felt the slippery wetness between the soft lips, I lubed up my fingers until they were relatively slick. Then reaching into the waistband of his shorts, I pulled him out and squeezed.
“I’m ready.”